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Vox was losing his mind.
It had been a little over a month now. Val had blown up at him— something about Angel Dust, and Vox not taking him seriously, or whatever— and he left.
Where he went, Vox didn’t know. And he didn’t particularly care, either. Definitely.
Unfortunately, there was an unforeseen side effect to Val’s absence at Vee Tower— and it was sex. Lack thereof, rather. Vox couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than a few days without getting laid, thanks to Val, and now… Well, he was frustrated.
He groaned in annoyance as a notification pinged. An e-mail from his stupid assistant. He typed back a response, aggressive and riddled with typos, but he didn’t care enough to give it an editing pass before he sent it.
No sooner had he pressed send than a pounding came at his door, and he groaned and opened it. He knew it had been a mistake giving Ethan a spare key to his apartment.
“I should take away your key,” he growled, but hesitated when he opened his eyes and saw not Ethan but Velvette standing before him. He faltered, standing up a bit straighter, and adjusted his jacket instinctively. “Vel— Velvette? Hah, I wasn’t expecting you…”
“Yeah, I know,” Velvette responded, not glancing up from her phone as she slid past him into the room, then sunk down onto the bed. She was so light that the mattress barely dipped beneath her weight. (Some part of Vox had always envied that, though he’d never admit it.) “I’m gonna level with you, Vox, you’re being a total cunt.”
Vox sputtered, not expecting that.
“Excuse me?” he asked, shutting the door with a kick and coming to stand before her.
“Did I stutter?” she responded, leaning back on one arm and hardly giving him a glance. “You’ve been a nightmare ever since your damsel in distress locked himself up in his tower.”
“As if that’s my fault,” Vox said, rolling his eyes, a hand finding his hip. “Val’s being melodramatic. Things will smooth out once he gets off his high horse and realizes he’s being unreasonable.”
“You mean you’re gonna be able to fuck again and it’ll make you forget why you two were fighting,” Velvette corrected, grimacing at the mere thought.
Vox shifted his weight, hands finding his hips. “Did you make the torturous trek upstairs just to insult me?” he asked after a silence, and Velvette looked up at him as if it were the stupidest thing he’d ever said— and while Vox would never admit that anything he’d ever said was stupid, he knew he had said worse in front of Velvette.
“There’s a stick up your arse,” she said finally. “You need to get laid.”
He raised an eyebrow as she shifted, pulling herself further onto his bed. After a moment, she patted the spot beside her on the mattress, and he huffed a laugh as he sat beside her.
“What, did you make another profile on a dating app for me?” he asked, peering at her phone screen, but all he saw was some random clickbait article. “Thought I told you I don’t fuck randos, Vel.”
“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes, and with more strength than he thought she possessed, she yanked him down so his back was splayed across her thighs. Vox’s screen actually glitched for a moment, he was so caught off guard. “And I know you’re not fucking that stupid assistant of yours, neither. Just take your pants off so we can get this over with.”
Vox blinked.
Velvette wanted to have sex with him? He couldn’t help but laugh at the notion.
“Yeah, real funny, Vel,” he said, but when he went to sit up, she barred her arm across his throat, and he tensed. When her other hand meandered down his torso, down to his clothed crotch, he raised an eyebrow. “Velvette.”
“I’m not joking, unfortunately,” she said with a sigh scrolling idly on her phone with the hand of the arm barred across Vox’s throat.
“You don’t even like men,” Vox pointed out, then shivered when she continued to palm at him. He was just a man, after all— he was a slave to the reactions of his physical form, as much as it irked him. (How could he become a god with something as lowly and mortal as a body?)
“Maybe so, but I do like when you don’t act like a bitch,” Velvette said. She pulled her hand away, and Vox breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived, because she one-handedly undid his belt without so much as a glance.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but something kept him from just grabbing her hand and shoving her away. He was so much stronger than her— it’d be stupidly easy. And Velvette was durable, too, so it wasn’t like he’d hurt her if he was a little too rough by accident—
Vox’s breath caught in his throat, gills fluttering when Velvette’s silk-soft fingers wrapped around his cock with practiced ease.
“Ugh, you’re easy,” she complained, swiping her thumb over the head and spreading the precum that had already pearled at the tip. She glanced over to Vox’s screen, assessing his expression, and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of slag, Vee.”
“Well excuse me,” Vox barked defensively, trying to sit up. The arm across his throat stopped that without fanfare. “You barged into my house and shoved your hand down my pants, Velv, what am I supposed to think?”
“I’m helping you, you bitch,” she hissed, tightening her grip on his dick just enough to make his breath catch again.
He tensed, shifting awkwardly in her lap. She used the movement to push his pants and boxers down. Vox’s dick bobbed against his stomach before she wrapped her nimble fingers around him properly.
“Velv, c’mon,” he tried, but he didn’t move. She’d worked him hard already just by palming him a little. Did that make him easy? No, he assured himself with a frown. He was just pent up. And Velvette was an attractive woman! He didn’t have to justify his boner to anybody.
“No, shut up,” Velvette shot back, eyes returning to her phone as she set a steady pace with her hand. “This is happening.”
She punctuated the statement with a pump of her hand, and Vox’s gills fluttered beneath his shirt. When the pace of her hand quickened, Vox’s breath caught. One of his legs twitched.
Velvette continued, silent, scrolling on her phone as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Another twist of her palm around his dick made his head fuzzy, made him bite back a noise. His back arched before he was able to stop it, and his cock twitched in her hand.
“Oh, fuck,” Vox breathed, eyes screwing shut awkwardly. He barely had the mind to redirect his view to Velvette’s phone camera. “Why are you so good at this?”
With a scoff, she tightened her palm around his dick. She rolled her eyes when his breath caught again. “You act like I’ve never touched a dick before,” she said. “Not every lesbian can be a gold star, Vox.”
Vox opened his mouth to reply, but Velvette cut him off, the pace of her hand quickening as she began to rant.
“—And women can have dicks, Vox! It’s 2026!” She pressed her arm a bit harder against Vox’s throat, and he made a noise of protest as she dug painfully into his Adam’s apple. “Oh, grow up, I know you can still breathe.”
“Velv, I can’t talk,” he rasped, and she tsk-ed.
“Thought I told you to shut up anyway,” Velvette replied, digging a bit further into his throat.
“Isn’t this supposed to relax me?” he asked, voice rough. Velvette ignored him, continuing her scrolling and the pace of her hand around his cock. Vox didn’t even need to glance down to know his dick is practically drooling glowing blue precum— the slick feel of her palm and the lewd sounds told him everything he needed to know.
Velvette huffed an understated laugh at one of the posts on her phone— Vox couldn’t see what the post was, but he was a bit busy getting a handjob, so he couldn’t say he cared right now. Arousal had begun to twist its claws up his spine, begun to fry his circuits. He heard his internal fans beginning to pick up, felt coolant rush his system.
“You’re lucky I’m even doing this, y’know,” she said finally. Vox blinked hazily, screen warm, and glitched when she slowed down considerably to dig her thumb into the slit at the head.
“Tch,” Vox managed, rolling his eyes and squirming where he was sprawled across her lap. “I’m not gonna thank you, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I could make you,” Velvette teased. She squeezed at Vox’s dick— not hard enough to hurt. A warning.
“Yeah, well, I don’t thank the people I fuck,” he ground out, only barely managing to keep his voice steady. “If anything, they thank me. You’re lucky I like you, Velvette, ‘cause that’s the only reason I’m letting you get away with this.”
With a bark of laughter, she sped up the tempo of her palm again, each stroke eliciting a shaky breath or a twitch from Vox.
“Maybe I should just leave you like this then, hm?” she asked, not sparing him a glance as she honed back in on her phone. “Work you up until you’re right at the edge and then go back home.”
Vox raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Velvette—” His words caught on a shaky groan when she pumped again, just right. Slow, but not torturously so, and just as tight as he liked it. “Velv, I don’t know if you know this, but I have hands and am perfectly capable of jerking off on my own.”
“Yeah, but it always feels better when it’s someone else’s hand, doesn’t it?” she shot back.
She clearly noticed Vox’s reaction to her earlier motion, because she set that same pace, fingers tight enough that electric pleasure arced up Vox’s spine, making his head spin and his thoughts fuzzy. He let out a rolling groan, back arching upwards off of Velvette’s lap, one of his hands darting down to grip awkwardly at her thigh.
“I asked you a question,” she said, a bit more firmly.
Vox’s breath stuttered at her tone, and his eyes shot up to her face. “What?” he asked, mind hazy, before he processed what she had asked him. A rhetorical question? She was making him answer a rhetorical question? After this, he’d annoy the fuck out of her. “I mean, yeah, I guess…”
He groaned again, fans picking up further. Velvette cooed when his screen glitched around an embarrassingly high-pitched moan.
“Oh, you needed this, hm?” she asked, removing her arm from across Vox’s throat and tossing her phone aside, only to immediately bring her hand down his torso, then up and under his shirt. When she shamelessly dug sharp nails into the gills at his side, he shivered and moaned again. The way he melted would’ve made him murderously flustered if he was of sound mind, but with the haze of arousal clouding his thoughts, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“V-Velv, don’t touch those,” he managed shakily, pleasure coiling ever-tighter in his stomach.
She hummed, digging her nails in more roughly, and Vox let out an honest-to-Lucifer whimper. “Why not, Vee? You clearly enjoy when I touch you like this,” she said coquettishly. Vox only gave a rolling moan in response. Velvette hummed in understanding. “You don’t wanna blow your load too fast, hm? Don’t wanna look like a quick shot?”
“They’re— sensitive,” he landed on, propping himself up on one elbow.
“Fucking duh,” Velvette said. She rolled her eyes, then dug her fingers further into his gills. Vox groaned, hips subconsciously jumping to meet her palm.
“Fuck,” he breathed, head lolling back, and he screwed his eyes shut. “Velvette—”
Velvette huffed and pulled her hand out from under his shirt, and tightened her grip around his cock. Before he could whine in protest, her fingers were fumbling at the edges of his screen. She held down on the lower volume button until he was muted.
He shivered when he processed that. For once, his mind was blissfully quiet— all that existed right now was Velvette’s hand and the rubber band of arousal wound tight in his stomach, so tight he felt it down his thighs, up his torso.
“Much better,” Velvette said, picking up the pace of her palm around his cock. “Your voice is such a turn-off.”
Vox’s spine arched up off her lap again. Fuck, he was close— he was so close it hurt. He pawed awkwardly at her shoulder. He blankly recalled her threat from earlier, that she might blueball him. That she’d just leave him like this. God, he felt like he’d die if she did that.
“There y’go,” she cooed, her free hand meandering back down to his throat. “Oh, poor girl. Don’t worry.”
Not a girl, he thought, but he obviously couldn’t say as much. His head fell back against the bed, and it was only a few moments before he felt the band in his stomach pull taut, then snap. His screen glitched outright, and before he could even think to try and unmute himself, his mind went white with orgasm.
He felt himself melt in her lap, and a pathetic whine slipped out, silent save for in his mind. His fans picked up, coolant flooding his frying circuits. Glowing blue cum shot in thick ropes out onto his stomach and into Velvette’s palm.
Velvette snickered as his vision blinked out.
“Aw, she bluescreens when she cums,” Velvette teased, working Vox through his orgasm. “Cute.”
When her hand slowed to a stop and Vox came down from his high, his shaking fingers came up to his screen, and he pressed the raise volume button a handful of times.
“So?” Velvette asked, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling a little less like a cunt?”
“...Yeah,” he admitted. Not that he was exactly pleased about it. He couldn’t deny that he was practically a puddle in Velvette’s lap, that he was still twitching with the aftershocks of orgasm. He blinked the stars from his eyes, then propped himself up on his elbows. His eyes found the smear of glowing blue on her palm, and he grimaced. “Shit, I’ll— I’ll getcha a tissue.”
He used his wires to root around his bedside table blindly for a pack of tissues, and after a moment, he heard Velvette huff. She ran a finger down the mess on his stomach as he shoved himself back into his pants, then unceremoniously shoved her fingers into his mouth. Vox flushed, eyes widening.
“This is quicker,” she said, as if that explained everything.
Vox only blinked.
“Anyway,” she continued. “This will never happen again. You’re gonna be an adult and hire a hooker like the rest of us or you’re gonna talk to your little boyfriend. Got it?”
“Velv—” he tried around her fingers, but she ground her fingers further onto the flat of his tongue.
“Nuh-uh,” she replied. “You say yes, ma’am or you say nothing.”
He blinked, then swallowed hard around her fingers.
“...Yes, ma’am,” he said finally. She removed her fingers from his mouth and wiped them on Vox’s shirt.
“Good girl,” she said, then pushed Vox off of her lap and onto the floor. She swept to standing and smiled. “Now, I’ll call Val and ask where he is. You clean yourself up.”
Vox scrambled to a seated position, ready to let her have it, but she was already leaving.
He sighed as the door clicked closed. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled sarcastically, moving to properly clean himself up.